Once there was a young nose goblin who feared the outdoors. When pressured to leave he would say “What for? It’s comfy here. Why shall I go forth? It’s dreary and gloomy. The people hate us so! They bind us in tissue and toss us in trash. They flush us in toilets and wipe us on sleeves. They fling us on strangers and claim that we carry disease. There’s nothing out there for me, I’ll stay, if you please.”

Great gusts of winds and large fleshy probes would could not pry this goblin from his big comfy nose. No matter the struggle, he never gave in. No matter the cost, the goblin would win. He was rooted deep in the depths within. In the thicket of nose hairs far from where any finger could reach.

“I’ll leave when I’m ready! I’ll leave when I please! I leave when I feel like it, no matter your pleas. This is my home born and raised and I’ll remain here till my last dying day. My time is short lived, regardless the course, so deal with the discomfort. My life span is sparse. I’ll vacate the premise when I’m dull and I’ve withered. I’ll go out with a bang, not like a slug and slither.” And with the outside he never did mingle. Till he gave up the fight and dropped down like a tired old shingle.